


Crowley x Reader: Sympathy For The Devil

by KingOfHearts709



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Guessing game, Songfic, Sympathy for the Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingOfHearts709/pseuds/KingOfHearts709
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's a man of wealth and taste, he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowley x Reader: Sympathy For The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> The ONLY Crowley fic I wrote. Someone on DA said it wasn't steamy enough, but I don't care. They can deal. xoxo

-Please allow me to introduce myself-  
-I'm a man of wealth and taste-  
-I've been around for a long, long year-  
-Stole many a man's soul and faith-

He was back again. That one man with the odd British-Scottish accent and suit had popped back into the motel room you were staying at. This was the second time now.  
“Hello, love,” he said.  
“Hi,” you replied. Then you looked at him and his smirking face and asked, “Going to tell me who you are?”

-And I was 'round when Jesus Christ-  
-Had his moment of doubt and pain-  
-Made damn sure that Pilate-  
-Washed his hands and sealed his fate-

“You’re supposed to guess, love,” he smiled.  
“I have, and you haven’t given me anything to go on,” you reminded him. “The only thing I can guess is that you’re a demon.”  
“One of the most powerful ones, mind you.” You bit your lip and thought. Most powerful?  
Sam and Dean ought to know who he is, then.

-Pleased to meet you-  
-Hope you guess my name-  
-But what's puzzling you-  
-Is the nature of my game-

You strolled over to Sam and Dean’s motel room, since there were only two beds in theirs, and knocked a few times. You rocked on your heels as the doorknob turned.  
But then you were put back in your room, and someone’s hand was on your arm.  
“What the-” you said, but that voice interrupted.  
“Now, now, little (YN), no cheating,” he said, shaking his head, tutting or something.

-I stuck around St. Petersburg-  
-When I saw it was a time for a change-  
-Killed the czar and his ministers-  
-Anastasia screamed in vain-

“Do you just like following me around?” you asked him one day when you, Sam and Dean had taken on a new case. This time you had found a room with two beds and a pullout couch.  
“I think liking you is enough,” he said, giving a little shrug. You laughed a little.  
“I think now is the time to allow me another hint.”  
“Think me of a king,” he said, and disappeared again when the door opened slightly.

-I rode a tank-  
-Held a general's rank-  
-When the blitzkrieg raged-  
-And the bodies stank-

“A king?” you said, quietly since Sam and Dean were asleep and the demon had grabbed you and moved you as far away as you could get in the motel room.  
“The only,” he confirmed.  
“King of Hell. Nice name.” You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “I still don’t know why I’m talking to a demon like you.”  
“You still want to know who I am.” He leaned forward a bit. “That’s enough to pique anyone’s interest. Especially yours.”

-Pleased to meet you-  
-Hope you guess my name, oh yeah-  
-Ah, what's puzzling you-  
-Is the nature of my game, oh yeah-

“My interest?” you asked.  
“You’re a curious little woman with a knack for being snarky,” he explained, “so, naturally, yes.” You smirked this time.  
“Tell me, your majesty, how many more hints do I get?”  
“No more, I’m afraid.” He looked you over with his brown-ish eyes, “But I think, for you, (YN), I’m able to make an exception. Sam and Dean indeed know me, and I’ll allow their help, so long as they don’t give away the answer.”

-I watched with glee-  
-While your kings and queens-  
-Fought for ten decades-  
-For the gods they made-

“Dean?” you asked.  
“Yeah, what?” he replied, not really looking at you as he drank his bottle of beer.  
“Do you know a demon that’s the king of Hell?” You held up your hand. “But don’t tell me his name, I want to guess.”  
“The hell are you talking about?” He looked up now, putting down his beer. “Why’re you asking about the king of Hell?” You bit the inside of your cheek.

-I shouted out,-  
-"Who killed the Kennedys?"-  
-When after all-  
-It was you and me-

“Because...” you started, then just sighed and came out with it. “This demon who says he’s the king of Hell keeps popping up and making me guess his name. He said I could ask you for help, but you can’t give me the answer.” Dean looked at you like you were insane.  
“What’s going on, now?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. “What’s all this talk about the king of Hell?”  
“Well,” Dean explained, “apparently, he’s been following around (YN) and making her guess who he is, and he’s letting us help her.”  
“He’s not, like, super dangerous, is he?” The brother’s both looked down.

-Let me please introduce myself-  
-I'm a man of wealth and taste-  
-And I laid traps for troubadours-  
-Who get killed before they reached Bombay-

“How was the help from moose and squirrel?” the king asked you when you were at a bar.  
“Crappy,” you sighed, taking a sip of your beer. “They claimed they would do anything to kick your ass back to Hell.”  
“That’s a bit harsh.” You looked back at the door.  
“They’re supposed to be here by now.” Just as you spoke, they were at the door, and Dean looked at you next to the demon and scowled. Sam tried to walk forward, but two men blocked both of the Winchester’s way.

-Pleased to meet you-  
-Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah-  
-But what's puzzling you-  
-Is the nature of my game-

“This is actually quite fun,” the demon smiled as he twirled his fingers around the rim of his glass that contained Craige. “I didn’t expect this much joy in my little game.”  
“This is a game?” you asked, confused.  
“Of course it’s a game. The game is your confusion, and it ends when you guess correctly.” You looked back at the door. Sam and Dean left, probably to go around the back way. “Don’t worry, love,” the demon said, “I don’t think they’ll get in anytime soon.” He opened his jacket and revealed the demon knife he must’ve slipped from their pocket.

-Pleased to meet you-  
-Hope you guessed my name-  
-But what's confusing you-  
-Is just the nature of my game-

“Can’t believe you’d do that,” you said, unamused at first, but then a little smile found its way onto your face.  
“There’s another hint for you,” he said. “I am very deceiving.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s say we leave here, though?”  
“Yeah, and do what?”  
“Play the guessing game, of course. I know you haven’t got a clue, but this isn’t exactly helping, either.” He gestured to the bar.

-Just as every cop is a criminal-  
-And all the sinners saints-  
-As heads is tails-  
-Just call me Lucifer-  
-Cause I'm in need of some restraint-

“I would say you were Lucifer or something, but you’re not evil enough,” you said, guessing only slightly. The demon stood.  
“Old Lucifer?” he asked. “Not a chance. But you’re getting closer.” He set his hand on your arm and started to lead you out of the bar. You let him for some reason, only because this little ‘game’ was getting more interesting by the second. You both exited through the front and went into an alleyway before you were met with the cool inside of your motel room.

-So if you meet me-  
-Have some courtesy-  
-Have some sympathy, and some taste-

“I guess the guys are still trying to get inside the bar,” you said when you saw the room was empty.  
“Which means they’re in now and we won’t have long until they know we’ve come back here,” he said.  
“We won’t have long for what?” With your question still unanswered, he smirked and pressed his lips on yours somewhat hard and carefully, like he was specifically aiming for a certain spot. You tried to say something against the kiss, but when he grabbed your wrists, you had no chance of pulling away.

-Use all your well-learned politesse-  
-Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah-

After a good minute or so, he let you breathe and let go of your wrists.  
“You just...with your...and you...what?” you said, stuttering and not forming any kind of complete sentence. “Why the hell did you do that?” He mocked hurt.  
“I quite think you liked it,” he said. You blushed deeply. “Maybe if you’re nice, I won’t kill you.” You sighed, some of the shock leaving your brain.  
“I don’t think you’d kill me after that,” you told him. He raised his eyebrows.  
“You might be right on that one.”

-Pleased to meet you-  
-Hope you guessed my name, yeah-  
-But what's puzzling you-  
-Is the nature of my game-

“So, really,” you began again, “what is your name?”  
“Guess,” he answered simply.  
“I can’t.”  
“Why not?”  
“If anything, it’s because I’m tired of guessing. It’s no fun anymore.” He shrugged a little and sighed.  
“Well, I do know yours,” he said.  
“And you did just kiss me as well,” you pointed out.  
“There is that lovely snippet, yes,” he smirked proudly.

-Tell me baby, what's my name-  
-Tell me honey, can ya guess my name-  
-Tell me baby, what's my name-  
-I tell you one time, you're to blame-

“Try starting it with ‘C,’” he said.  
“That’s hardly a hint,” you laughed a little. You heard knocking on the door to the motel room suddenly.  
“Looks like the boys are back,” he said, gripping your arm. “Time to go.”  
“Wait, but-” you tried to say something, but you and the demon were already back in the alleyway. As you were teleporting, you could’ve sworn you heard Dean’s voice saying the name ‘Crowley.’

-What's my name-

“The game’s not over, love,” he told you, running his finger along the outline of your hair and twirling a strand as he looked you up and down. “Neither are we.”  
“How can we be over when we haven’t even started, Crowley?” you smiled deviously, shaking your head.  
“Lucky guess.”  
“You left a little too late when Dean gave me the answer.”

-Tell me, baby, what's my name-  
-Tell me, sweetie, what's my name-

“Congratulations, then,” he smirked. You grinned.  
“You smirk an awful lot for the king of Hell,” you told him as he took a step closer to you.  
“It’s one of my better traits.” He set his lips on yours again, and this time, you happily replied.  
“Might we have a better game next time?” you mumbled against his lips.  
“Maybe, if you’re good,” he chuckled back.


End file.
